


And the City Stopped As I Held You in My Arms

by whispered_story



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: First Time, Infidelity, Internalized Homophobia, Jared Padalecki/Adrianne Palicki - Freeform, Jared/Jensen is endgame, Journalist Jared, Lawyer Jensen, M/M, Secret Relationship, alternative universe - 1940s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 09:46:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12651102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whispered_story/pseuds/whispered_story
Summary: New York City, 1946. Jared’s been putting off proposing to Adrianne for long enough. But when the day comes and he’s still having doubts, it seems like a sign he can’t ignore when a handsome stranger knocks into him and destroys the roses meant for Adrianne. Jensen is like no other man Jared has ever met, and it makes Jared start to question much more about himself than his discarded plans for marriage.





	And the City Stopped As I Held You in My Arms

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [SPN Reversebang](http://spn-reversebang.livejournal.com/) for [Dancing_Adrift](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancing_Adrift) wonderful prompt "Running Into You" (original art prompt is in the fic!).  
> Go check out the gorgeous art [here](https://dancing-adrift.dreamwidth.org/15872.html) and let [Dancing_Adrift](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancing_Adrift) know how freaking amazing she is!
> 
> Beta'd by [Dancing_Adrift](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancing_Adrift).
> 
> Title taken from Take That's "The Garden".
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 

"What can I help you with?" the woman behind the counter asks, smiling. She's short and plump, her face friendly and open.

"I need a dozen red roses," Jared says. His voice sounds dull in his own ears, almost muffled – like he isn't the one speaking them, but someone who is far away. It's almost like an out of body experience, standing in the middle of the tiny flower shop, looking around the arrays of flowers helplessly. 

He doesn't want to be here. He wants to be anywhere but here.

The woman's smile gets wider, eyes bright, and she gives Jared a knowing look. "Of course, dear," she says. The shop is crammed to the ceiling with flowers, and Jared watches her pull out a few different bouquets from a bucket, humming to herself before she settles on one.

"This one looks like the best," she says. "Anything else, dear?"

Jared shakes his head, mutely, before he remembers to be polite. "No, thank you," he says and pulls out his wallet to pay.

Less than a minute later he ducks out of the tiny shop, the roses, now wrapped in paper, clutched in his hand. They're pretty, Jared supposes – vibrant, the blossoms not fully open yet. 

They're Adrianne's favorite flowers. Jared knows she will love them, and Jared absolutely hates them. Hates everything they stand for. The bouquet feels heavy in his hand – but not as heavy as the small velvet ring box that's nestled in the inside pocket of his coat.

Jared has been waiting all day.

He's felt off-kilter, unable to focus on work. He could barely get a proper sentence out, kept rewriting the same paragraph over and over, plucking away at the piece he's been working on without making any real progress. 

He's been too distracted, waiting for a sign. Waiting for something to tell him not to do this.

But so far, everything today has been going according to plan. Jared caught his train on time, made it to the jewelry store without being late to work. The ring was fitted and waiting for him, and the sales guy had congratulated him on his impending engagement. And now the roses are perfect too – not one of those sad looking bouquets he sometimes sees wilting in the flower stands at the end of the day because all the best arrangements were chosen first.

If Jared has been looking for a sign, it seems like everything is pointing towards him doing exactly the right thing. But his stomach aches and his chest feels too tight. 

Jared sighs and walks a little slower, gives the universe a bit more time to intervene. He almost starts praying – except he hasn't prayed in a long time, not since he left Texas and decided to try and make something off himself in New York. 

Maybe he should have stayed, he thinks now. But in Texas, he probably already would have been married years ago. He'd have a sweet, Southern wife and a small gaggle of kids and a job he hated. 

This is better. And maybe, if there's no sign to tell him otherwise, he really is doing the right thing. Maybe he'll be happy, being a husband. Having a wife.

He walks past a subway station and briefly thinks about catching one of the trains home. But Jared isn't quite ready yet. He needs just a little more time. He'll walk to the next station and catch a train there, go home to Adrianne.

Someone brushes past him, steps hurried, but he's too close and their shoulders knock together painfully. Jared makes a surprised noise at the sudden impact and stumbles a little. 

The roses start slipping from his hand. 

A thorn catches on his finger, a sharp sting, and Jared hisses as he tries to regain his balance. He feels it as he steps onto one of the flowers, the blossom squishy under the sole of his shoe.

"Oh shit," a guy curses. "I'm so sorry."

Jared turns toward him and stops. He stares. For a moment, he feels stupefied, because the guy in front of him is... something. Oh, he's something alright. 

The brim of his hat covers part of his face, but it does nothing to diminish his good looks. The freckled skin and sharp jaw, plump lips and a slightly crooked nose that Jared thinks must have been broken once. He's the kind of guy that Jared supposes would have all the women he knows fawning, gushing over how handsome he is. 

And Jared's stomach twists some more, the feeling not any more pleasant than before. 

_Don't_ , he silently tells himself. 

It's been something he's been telling himself over and over again for a while now. For way too long. Don't have those thoughts, those feelings, those _inclinations_. 

"It's okay," he says, and his voice sounds too thin.

The guy shakes his head, tipping his hat back a little. "I wasn't paying attention. I'm so sorry," he repeats. "I'll pay for new flowers or at least give you the money. How much were these?"

He reaches inside the pocket of his coat, pulling out a wallet.

"No, it's really okay," Jared says and glances down at the roses scattered on the sidewalk. It rained earlier, and the ground is still wet, the pavement dark gray. The red roses lying at his feet look even more colorful now. 

A sign. All day he's been waiting for it, and here it is. Jared feels a little lightheaded suddenly, a weight lifted off him, and he huffs out a snort. "I didn't really want these anyway."

The guy gives him a quizzical look, eyebrow quirked up. "You didn't?"

"No," Jared confirms, a small smile starting to tug at his lips. "In fact, I think maybe you did me a favor. Thank you."

The guy laughs, and it's like the sound bounces off the walls behind him, clear and cheerful. He looks younger when he laughs, Jared notes, his eyes all crinkled up. 

"I did you a favor? What the hell did those flowers do to you, man?" the guy asks.

Jared bites down onto his bottom lip, almost hard enough for it to really hurt. "You have no idea," he says.

"So… seriously, I can't buy you new ones?"

"No, it's really not necessary. I won't be needing them," Jared says, feeling another wave of relief flood through him. He won't be needing them. He won't need the ring either. He got his sign.

The guy smiles at him. "Okay, if you're sure," he says and pulls out a pocket watch. "Well, I got some time to spare now. Can I at least buy you a cup of coffee, to make up for being a klutz? Though, in my defense, I was running late, trying to catch a train – I'm usually much more aware of my surroundings, I swear."

Jared should say no. He shouldn't have coffee with this guy, innocent as it would be, but it's so tempting. Too tempting. And Jared is known for not always doing the smartest thing. "Yeah, okay. If you got some time to spare."

"Well, I won't be catching my train now, so the rest of my day just opened up," he says and gives Jared a smile that's almost blinding. "I'm Jensen, by the way. Jensen Ackles."

The diner is small, but bustling with people. The two waitresses, dressed in pale yellow uniforms that Jared thinks look kinda sad, are flitting from table to table, refilling coffee and dishing out food.

It's a dreary day, the sky overcast and threatening to rain some more – the kind of weather that makes people flee inside and yearn for a good, warm cup of coffee. 

Jared barely drank any coffee before he moved to New York. But there's always a fresh pot at the paper and everyone else is knocking it back like there's no tomorrow, and Jared got used to it, too. The feeling of a steaming mug cradled in his hands during meetings, sitting on his desk and getting colder and colder when he gets lost in writing a story. The bitter taste always brings him back to reality, helps him focus – when he doesn't attempt to drown it out with too much sugar.

Right now, though, it's not the coffee that has his attention.

Under the dark coat, Jensen is wearing a suit that looks much more expensive than Jared's. It fits him too well to be cheap, and he looks a lot more put-together. 

Jared runs a hand through his hair, trying to straighten it a little. It always looks messy, no matter how hard he tries, and Adrianne has been hinting that he should get it cut for ages – make him look a bit more presentable. For whom, Jared isn't sure – he isn't much for going out and he a journalist; he likes to think he's supposed to look a bit frazzled. Jeff always looks a little unkempt, but it makes him look wild, intriguing. Nobody wants to talk to a journalist who looks too slick.

"So," Jensen starts when they waitress has finished pouring coffee for them. "Those roses. I have to ask. What's the story?"

Jared curls his hands around his mug, letting the familiar warmth seep through his skin. "I got them for my girlfriend," he says, shrugging with one shoulder. 

"Hmm. You don't want to give her flowers anymore now?" Jensen asks. "Your girl must have done something to piss you off then, huh?"

"No. I – well, I was going to propose." Another awkward shrug, and Jared really wishes they could talk about something else. He doesn't want to talk about his girlfriend or marriage. 

"Going to… Jensen trails off and his eyes widen. " _Please_ tell me I didn't ruin what was supposed to be a great evening for you? I didn't ruin your proposal?"

"I didn't want to propose," Jared admits.

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh," Jared echoes with a self-conscious laugh. "I was looking for a reason not to, actually."

"Thus the whole thing about me doing you a favor?" Jensen guesses and takes a sip of his coffee. He keeps looking at Jared over the rim of his cup. 

He has green eyes, Jared notes. Really green eyes, framed by long dark lashes. It's nothing he's ever really noticed on people before, never paid attention too, but he likes the way Jensen's lashes look.

"It… felt like a sign." He gives Jensen a small smile, more self-deprecating than anything. He feels awful for admitting he didn't want to ask Adrianne to be his wife, but yet not as awful as he knows he should.

"So, I guess I might have an angry young woman coming to look for me, blaming me for her boyfriend not proposing to her?" Jensen jokes, then clears his throat. "Why didn't you want to propose? I mean, tell me if it's none of my business, but I'm curious."

Why. It's a good question. One Jared has been dreading to answer, doesn't really _know_ how to answer. 

"It felt like the right thing to do. She's… great. She's just… maybe not great for me," Jared says, then adds, "Maybe someday. We're still young after all."

Maybe he'll change, he hopes.

Jared is almost late meeting Adrianne for dinner that night.

She's already waiting for him when he gets to her place and they walk to the restaurant together. She looks beautiful, her blonde hair in perfect curls, wearing a dark green dress that fits her perfectly. 

"How was your day?" Adrianne asks once they're seated and have placed their orders. "Anything exciting happening in the world of news?"

"Nothing much," Jared says. "I'm still working on the piece about the St. George ferry slip. They still haven't done anything to resume service there since the fire."

Adrianne gives him a smile. "That sounds interesting," she says, and Jared knows she's bending the truth a little. Not quite lying, because she's always been interested in his writing. Always encouraged him. But he knows the story, much like many he writes, aren't groundbreaking.

"Jeff liked the angle I was taking," he admits.

"Tell me more about it," Adrianne prompts.

Jared smiles at her and launches into a story about the interviews he's been doing for the piece, but his enthusiasm about his work isn't heartfelt for once. Guilt is starting to make his heart feel heavy, piling up more and more with each moment that passes.

He's talking about his work, when instead he would have been ready to get down on one knee if things had gone slightly different today.

There's a voice in his head telling him she must know. She must know he was going to propose and that he is backing out, after being so close to giving her what he knows she wants. And now he's not going to, might never do it, and he feels so bad. Adrianne has been hinting at wanting to get married for a while – she wants to marry while they're still young. Wants a husband and kids and a nice house in the suburbs in the country, away from New York. 

Jared wants – well, he doesn't know what he wants, but not any of that. Not her, not _really_. He wants to want her, wishes he did, wishes he could be exactly the guy she wants, but Jared's fucked up in the head, twisted, and he wants things he shouldn't want instead. He can't love her, no matter how much he tries. 

Maybe, though. Maybe.

He can't give up hope that he'll change, that he'll learn to truly love her that way. 

Trying to ease his conscience a little, Jared orders an expensive bottle of wine for them – one he can barely afford. Like he's buying her forgiveness for something she doesn't know he needs forgiveness for.

Jared takes Adrianne home to his apartment after dinner. They have some more wine, this one cheaper and Jared can't really taste the difference, but he wouldn't be surprised if Adrianne can. She doesn't complain though.

She sits closely next to him on the couch, touches his arm while they talk and finish their drinks. Before long, Jared is feeling more than a little tipsy.

"Wanna move things to the bedroom?" he asks, and Adrianne grins at him.

"You know I do," she says. 

In his bedroom, Jared pulls Adrianne close by the waist and ducks down to kiss her.

"Jared," she laughs against his lips as he slides his hands under the skirt of her dress. 

They tumble onto the bed, fumbling with their clothes, and Jared tries. He kisses her as passionately as he can, seeks out all the spots he knows she likes to be kissed, to be touched. She's soft and beautiful, smelling like expensive soap, and she's way too good for him. Jared has always known that, has always wondered what made her take an interest in him of all people. Her parents never approved, and god, they don't know how right they were not to. 

But he tries. 

He draws soft moans and gasps from her, tries to give her pleasure as best as he can. He moans and grunts as she touches him, as they grind together. Pretends it feels much more amazing than it does, and feels a wave of relief that at least his body is still reacting the way it should.

He finally slides into her, slowly, the way she likes, and buries his face in her neck as he rolls his hips and fucks into her. Eyes closed, it's not Adrianne he sees, and the pleasure that gives him mixes with nausea.

Jensen and he had exchanged numbers before parting, scribbling them on white napkins from the diner. Jared has kept his in the pocket of his coat, but he hasn't taken it out, hasn't called.

He doesn't really think Jensen would call him either, maybe he even hopes he won't. But a week after their fateful meeting, Jared’s phone rings just as he's thinking about turning in early with a book and Jensen asks him to join him for a drink.

After that, they start seeing each other more often, having drinks after work sometimes or grabbing lunch together. It doesn't take long before Jared finds himself calling Jensen a good friend when he talks about him or introduces him to someone. It's a bit of a new thing for him – most of his friends in New York are people he met through Adrianne, and Jared isn't very close to a lot of them. 

He's never really been good at making friends. He's good at small talk, at making a good first impression, but it rarely goes any deeper than that. Jared likes being alone too much, doesn't care all that much for going out, and has always preferred a good book over people.

Jensen quickly worms his way past all of his defenses though, and it's not long before Jared asks Jensen if he wants to tag along to a party he and Adrianne have been invited too. It's a casual gathering, but Jared doesn't really know a lot of people, so he's glad when Jensen agrees to come.

Jensen arrives accompanied by a beautiful red-head he introduces as Danneel. 

"I've heard so much about you," Danneel says, beaming at him.

"Oh? I mean, me too. About you," Jared lies, and Danneel laughs.

"Oh, don't you worry. I know Jensen doesn't share much about himself with others," she assures him before she turns towards Jensen. "Jensen, be a dear and get us drinks, honey, while I get to know your friend a little better."

Jensen gives her a relaxed smile, obviously not bothered by being sent to fetch the drinks, and nods.

Seeing Jensen and Adrianne interact for the first time that evening is strange. It feels wrong. And it makes Jared feel nervous, even though he has nothing to be nervous about – Adrianne is his girlfriend and Jensen is just a friend, and neither of them know about the thoughts in his head.

"You're here late."

Jared looks up from his typewriter and the mess of papers with notes and half-finished paragraphs scattered around it, and finds Jeff watching him.

"Got a lot of work to do, boss," he replies and smiles. "Are you complaining?"

"About the fact that not everyone at this paper is a slacker?" Jeff asks and snorts. "No. Not really."

Jared laughs. "Well, then you shouldn't be distracting me."

"Who is the boss again?" Jeff grumbles and then, because he knows Jared hates it, ruffles Jared's hair. Jared tries to duck out the way, but he isn't fast enough and there isn't a lot of room to move at his small desk. 

He listens to Jeff laugh as he turns around and leaves, probably to find someone else to harass. Jared doesn't really mind the teasing – Jeff isn't just a boss, he's a friend, too, and a mentor, the one person willing to give him a shot when he moved to the city a little over a year ago. 

Jared likes to think he's good at what he does. He's got the tenacity to be a good journalist, but he's young, only starting to get somewhere. Right now, that's also his greatest blessing, because it makes it easier to explain his long hours to Adrianne lately. He's been coming in early and staying late a lot, and they don't see each other as often as before. Jared knows it's not fair to her, but he can't help looking for excuses to stay out late, cancel on their plans.

Adrianne never gets reproachful, never blames him for working so long, spending too little time with her. She supports him, and Jared almost wishes she didn't just so he'd feel less guilty.

Jared taps his finger against the bar in rhythm to _Five Minutes More_ , and nods at the bartender who puts two drinks down in front of them. Some mixed drink, dark amber over ice, that Jared didn't catch the name of when Jensen ordered it for them.

"Thank you," he mumbles, knows he probably can't be heard over the music and the bartender has already turned away from them.

Jensen picks up his glass and takes a healthy gulp of it. "Ah, that's good after a long week like this."

"Busy?" Jared asks.

"Always," Jensen says and nods at Jared's glass with a smile. Jared lifts it to his lips and takes a sip as Jensen takes another. It's bitter and sweet, and Jared likes it. "How're things with you?"

"Fine. Good," Jared says. "I've been working a lot."

"How is Adrianne?" Jensen asks. He pulls out a small silver cigarette case, flipping it open and offering one to Jared before pulling one out for himself. "Danneel mentioned she had lunch with her recently. She's just delighted by her."

He lights Jared's cigarette for him, and Jared takes a small drag from it. He doesn't smoke much – usually only when he goes out, because everyone else is doing it. He's still not sure he likes it all that much.

"Adrianne mentioned their lunch," he says, though he can barely remember what Adrianne said about it. "And she's doing well."

"How are things between you and her?" Jensen asks, voice a little quieter, leaning in like they're sharing a secret. The bar isn't too crowded, two seats next to them empty on both sides.

Jared grimaces. "You know… okay," he hedges, and Jensen hums. He picks up his drink again, cigarette dangling loosely from his other hand.

"I read one of your pieces recently," he says. "About the docks. You have a way with words, Padalecki."

"I'm not one of the Murrow boys," Jared jokes, and Jensen gives him a small smile.

"Your voice is nice enough for it," he comments and brings the cigarette to his lips. He waves at one of the waitresses, pointing to their half-empty glasses. "I like listening to you talk."

Jared flushes and ducks his head. "Enough about me," he says, and peers up, finding Jensen smiling at him. "How was your week? Other than busy."

"Long, tiresome," Jensen says and shrugs with a sigh. "We're handling a few big cases right now and we're all working long hours. Like you."

"Much better pay, though," Jared jokes, and Jensen gives him a small grin.

"You're young. Give it a few years, and you'll be working for all the big name newspapers," Jensen says, and he sounds so convincing, Jared almost believes him.

Jensen doesn't live too far away from the bar they meet at, and Jared agrees to another drink at his place when Jensen suggests it. Jared's pretty damn tipsy already, mind buzzing as they walk down the sidewalk together. It's not as busy as during the day, but there are still people out, laughing and chatting.

They have another cigarette on the way, smoke curling into the air and disappearing quickly in the dark night.

"I like this city much better during the night," Jensen murmurs, jostling Jared a little as he bumps against him.

"That mean you don't like it during the day?" 

Jensen snorts. "Do you?"

"Kind of," Jared says. "There are good things and bad things about it, I suppose."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Jensen agrees and then grins at him. "But it's better at night."

Jared laughs softly. "If you say so."

"We can go out and have drinks together at night. Much more fun than work," Jensen says, and Jared feels warmth spread through him at the words. He knows Jensen probably isn't talking about the two of them, specifically. He'd be just as happy with any of his other friends. But Jared's had enough drinks not to let reality kill his buzz, just lets the words wash warmly over him.

"Yeah," he agrees.

One more drink turns into two. Jensen pours them whiskey, straight up, and they don't savor it nearly as much as it probably deserves. Jared loves the way it burns down his throat, settles warmly in his stomach.

When Jensen offers him a third drink, Jared grins and shakes his head. "I probably shouldn't," he says, the words a little slurred, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Me neither," Jensen admits and gives a small laugh.

"I should get home," Jared adds. Jensen nods.

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah."

And then he kisses Jared. He leans in, pressing Jared back, and brings their mouths together, lips soft but firm against Jared's. Jared should push him away, should not be doing this, but it feels good, feels amazing. And when his hands find the lapels of Jensen's suit jacket, he tugs instead of pushing him away.

It's a bit of a blur.

Moving, _stumbling_ , from Jensen's kitchen to the bedroom. Jared's head is spinning from the drinks and from kissing Jensen, and somewhere in the back of his mind there's a voice reminding him he shouldn't be doing this. But he doesn't care – it's wrong, but he needs this, wants this. It just feels too good. Just having Jensen's hands on him, feeling him against him, feels better than anything else Jared has ever felt; all those dark, forbidden things he's always longed for deep down, always wondered about, and the moment Jensen's lips touched his it's like a dam breaks loose and now he can't stop, can't not take this, wrong and selfish as it is.

Jensen laughs against his mouth as they crash into the doorframe, his hands twisting in Jared's hair. 

"Careful," he murmurs, and with his free hand he draws Jared closer to him by the hips before he continues to move them backwards.

When he pushes Jared down onto the bed, Jared lets himself fall. Let's himself go. 

Jensen settles on top of him, kisses him again and again as their bodies move together, Jensen rocking down and Jared arching up into it. It's dirty, filthy, the noises they make and the way they grind together until Jared comes in his pants with a muffled cry.

Drunk, uninhibited, Jared relishes in the feeling of being totally out of control.

Jared's head feels like it's stuffed with cotton when he wakes up, pounding dully. He shifts, feels a warm body draped against his back, and blinks his gritty eyes open.

He's got that distinct taste of having had too much to drink the night before in his mouth, gross and sour, and he smacks his lips together as he blinks, his fuzzy vision clearing slowly.

He's not in his bedroom. He's not in Adrianne's bedroom either.

Piece by piece, the night before comes back to him. The drinking, the laughing, _the kiss_. Everything that happened after the kiss, too, though he's not all too clear on all the details. His blood runs cold in his veins.

He did _that_. After years and years of trying not to want this, want another man, not to be like this, because he knows how goddamn wrong it is, all it took was a few too many drinks. 

Jared's lungs feel tight, too small. This can't be happening, he thinks. It must be a bad dream, it can't be real.

But Jensen definitely feels real, pressed against his side, and the memories swirling around Jared's head are real, too. The way Jensen felt against him, on top of him, his kisses and his touches, the weight of his hard cock against Jared's through the layers of their clothes. 

And despite everything, despite the way his stomach is rolling and he feels almost frozen with fear, the thought of what they did makes his cock fill. 

"No," Jared mumbles. He untangles himself from Jensen, pushing himself up, feeling shaky, helpless.

"Jared?" Jensen murmurs behind him. He sounds sleepy, Jared's name slurred, and something tugs sharply at Jared's heart. 

He slumps, the fight draining from him, and sits on the edge of the bed. A thousand feelings whirl inside of him and he buries his face in his hands, wishing he could shut it all off.

"Hey," Jensen says. Jared feels him shift behind him, the sheets rustling, and a warm hand settles on his back. Jared's wearing nothing but his button down and underwear, though he can't remember taking his clothes off last night, and Jensen's hand feels warm through the thin layer of his clothes.

"It's okay," Jensen continues.

Jared drops his hands and laughs humorlessly. "Okay?" he echoes. "What the hell is okay about what we did last night? We... shit. _Shit_."

"Jay, it's okay," Jared repeats. "You didn't do anything wrong."

The words do something to Jared, make his stomach twist with regret and _anger_ , because how was what they did not wrong? How can Jensen be so damn _calm_ right now? "I had sex with a man," he spits out.

There's a silence, and for a second Jared thinks maybe he got through to Jensen. Maybe he doesn't remember what they did, but now that Jared has said it, he'll agree. That it was wrong. Sick.

But when Jensen finally says something, his voice is still calm, gentle. "There's nothing wrong with that," he says.

Jared's breath catches. He twists around, staring at Jensen, and he knows his eyes are wide. "Yes, there is. _Of course_ there is."

"Says who? Society? The Bible?" Jensen shoots back.

"Yes," Jared replies. " _Yes_."

"Well, _I'm_ saying that's bullshit," Jensen replies. "We didn't do anything other people don't do, too, only we did it with another man. So what? What's so wrong with that?" 

"How can you be so cool with that?" Jared asks. He twists his hands in the sheets that are still pooled around him. The fear is still gripping him tightly, wrapped around his chest and making it hard to breathe.

Jensen snorts. "I wasn't always. I struggled with this more than you'll ever know, but I couldn't fight it. And when I stopped fighting it, I learned to accept it," he says. "Accept myself."

"It's wrong, Jensen," Jared says, quieter now. He wishes it wasn't, he wishes Jensen was right. But he's not.

"It's just who I am," Jensen says. "I'm not going to try and be someone else. I'm not _ashamed_ of it."

"But Danneel…"

"Is a very good friend. We go out together, and people draw whatever conclusion they want from seeing us together. We let them," Jensen says and shrugs. 

"She knows?" Jared asks, and the thought makes his panic spike. She can't know. Not about _this_ , about him. Nobody was ever supposed to know.

"Yes."

"And she's okay with it?" Jared asks, disbelieving. 

"She is," Jensen says. "Not everyone has a problem with it, Jay. You'd be surprised. Hell, just a few years ago there were bars for guys like us here in the city. I'm not saying everyone was okay with it, but some people were. Things were getting _better_."

Jared snorts. "Yeah, well, nobody in my life would be okay with this."

Jensen sighs and his hand, finally, slips from Jared's back. It's only then that Jared realizes he made no move to shake it off, to get away from Jensen. "No, most people aren't. I'm not saying they are. But that doesn't make it wrong," Jensen says, his voice a little more pressing now. "I tried being with women, Jared, I tried for a while – but it never felt right. I was never happy. I am now – isn't that worth it?"

It hurts, hearing those words and knowing exactly how it feels. Except, unlike Jensen, Jared never planned on doing anything about it. Being with women might not feel right, but the thought of being with a man seems wrong too, though in an entirely different way.

"It could fuck everything up," Jared says softly. "Your career, your friendships, your relationship with your family… your whole damn life. You could lose everything over this."

"And it's still worth it to me," Jensen states, scooting back a little further. His shoulders are slumped, and Jared thinks it's not fair that he's the one looking like that. "I'm not going to shout it from the rooftops, but that doesn't mean I can't be who I am behind closed doors. Nobody needs to know what I do in private."

Jared nods, though he doesn't understand at all. He can't fathom being that way, thinking that way. He wants to, feels it deep down in the pit of his stomach – that yearning that makes him ache all over, but it's weighed down by fear.

"I... can't. I can't be like you, Jensen," he says. He gets up, meeting Jensen's eyes for only a second, before he starts gathering his clothes that he – or Jensen – must have dumped on the floor last night, tugging them on haplessly.

"I need to go home," he mumbles. "Adrianne and I had plans for today."

"Adrianne. Of course," Jensen says, and for the first time his tone sounds harsh. Bitter.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jared asks, looking up from doing up his pants.

"You don't love her, Jared. And that's okay. I've been there. I _get_ it. But are you going to keep her waiting forever, when you have no intention of marrying her?" Jensen says. "You can't string her along forever."

Jared nods, once, sharply. "Maybe I shouldn't," he finally says, and he isn't even sure what he means by that.

Jared is a good fifteen minutes late, meeting Adrianne for lunch that day. It makes him think of when he first met Jensen, how he was almost late meeting Adrianne that time too, because having coffee with Jensen, even though he was still a total stranger back then, distracted him.

"I'm so sorry," Jared says, words rushed, and he presses a kiss to Adrianne's cheek. They're meeting in a park close to her apartment, because Adrianne likes strolling through it on the way to the little café where they like to have breakfast.

"Rough morning?" Adrianne guesses. Her voice is teasing, but Jared still flushes, thinking about just why he is late and how damn rough his morning has been. His head still hurts a little from too much drinking and he knows he looks disheveled.

"I went out for drinks with Jensen last night," he mumbles, running a hand through his hair.

"Ah. I suppose I should be mad," Adrianne says, and Jared glances at her to find her smiling. "But I know how you men are."

"Yeah," Jared says lamely. "I didn't mean to keep you waiting."

"It's okay, honey," she says. 

Jared curves his arm around her and brushes his mouth over her cheek again. The same mouth that he kissed Jensen with, he thinks.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers again, and Adrianne laughs. 

"I'm sure we can find a way for you to make it up to me," she says, and Jared gives her a wry smile. He can't possibly ever make up for what he did, and yet it's not even until now that he's with Adrianne, that it really sinks in that, on top of everything else, he cheated on her last night. And until now, he didn't even feel guilty about _that_.

Jared had kept the ring he bought for Adrianne, and over the next few days he finds himself thinking about it, sometimes even taking it out and looking at it, more and more.

He pictures it. Taking Adrianne out to dinner, asking her over desert and not backing out this time. She'd say yes, he knows she would, and she'd be so happy too. She'd plan a big, beautiful wedding and Jared wouldn't have to worry about a thing. 

She's got their whole lives already planned out for them, and all Jared has to do is go along with it. It would be so damn easy.

Jared wishes he could actually do that, actually marry Adrianne. That he could forget about Jensen, about what happened, and have a normal life. But easy as it would be, it's not enough anymore. He knows he can't do it.

Things feel even worse, now that Jared knows what he could have. What things can be like with the right person, wrong as it may be. The longing for men, for Jensen, is even stronger now – real in a way it never was before.

And it makes his feelings for Adrianne seem even more dim. He likes her, _loves_ her in his own way, but there are no real feelings there anymore. And maybe there never was, but Jared was just too damn good at convincing himself otherwise.

He feels sad for her, for himself, but he's starting to feel bitter now. Trapped.

He wants Jensen. He hates himself for it, but he wants him. No matter how great Adrianne is, she isn't who he wants. And the more time he spends with her, the more he starts to resent her for that.

Jared is packing up his things for the day when Jeff stops at his desk, leaning against it with his hip.

"Got a minute?" he asks.

Jared hasn't really been in a rush to get home, even though he handed in his latest article an hour ago. He's been telling himself that doesn't mean there isn't more work to be done, another article to prep for, but he's really just been stalling, messing around.

"You're staying late again," Jeff notes.

"Had an article to finish, boss," Jared replies.

"Hmm, which you did," Jeff says and sighs. "Look, kiddo, I'm not saying you shouldn't. We've been over this before. But you've been staying quite late a lot recently. Everything okay with you?"

"Sure," Jared lies, but he doesn't sound convincing.

"Jared, I appreciate your dedication to your job. I probably shouldn't be questioning why, just be happy about it. But you've been looking pretty damn miserable, son," Jeff says.

Jared rolls his lower lip between his teeth and glances around the office, only to realize the other desks are empty and everyone else must have gone home already.

"Jared?" Jeff prompts.

Jared gives him a feeble smile. "I'm okay."

"Yeah, that would be a lot more believable if you didn't look like a kicked puppy. Word of advice – whatever is going on, Jared, do what you have to to make yourself happy," Jeff says. "I know that's not as easy as it sounds. But sometimes it's easier than you think."

"Speaking from experience?" Jared asks, and his tone is light, but part of him is actually curious. Sometimes, he feels like he's the only one carrying around a weight, that everyone else has their lives together and is doing well.

"Let's just say I'm older and wiser than you," Jeff says with a snort. "I've been there, not being happy with my life. And I didn't always make the right choices, unfortunately. Regret isn't a pretty thing to live with."

"Your life ended up okay, though," Jared points out.

"Yeah, but I think I could have been happier if I'd followed my dreams. Or at least given them a shot," Jeff says. "And I'm hoping it's not your job that's making you look like death warmed over lately, but if it is, then I'm not going to force you to stay here, Jared."

"You're not supposed to say that," Jared points out.

"Yeah, well, this isn't your boss talking to you. I'm also your friend," Jeff reminds him, and Jared swallows thickly, nodding.

It's not just Adrianne he's been lying to, pretending with, he reminds himself. Other than her, Jeff probably knows him better than anyone else. Except for Jensen, that is, because Jensen is the only person who really knows him, knows his deepest secret now. And Jared hates that he can't tell anyone else; he feels more than a little envious of Jensen for having Danneel, having someone to share this with, while Jared has no one.

"It's not my job," Jared finally says. "It's… complicated."

Jeff nods and then claps him on the shoulder. "Good things tend to be," he says. "But they're still worth trying for."

"How do you know?"

"I like to think I'm smart, that's why," Jeff teases and squeezes his shoulder before letting go. "And Jared?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm here if you ever need to talk," Jeff says. "About anything. I mean it – _anything_."

The words are imploring, and Jeff gives Jared a long look before he takes a step back. "Go home, Jared. Get some sleep," he says, and then turns around and leaves.

There's no way he knows. Jared has never said or done anything – other than with Jensen – that could give him a way. But watching Jeff walk away, Jared is suddenly sure Jeff knows anyway – and he doesn't _hate_ him for it. And even if Jared is wrong, the thought alone still comforts him.

"You still haven't asked Adrianne?" Tom asks, raising his eyebrows at Jared as he takes a sip from his beer. Jared feels himself tense as a few of the other guys, standing around Tom’s kitchen with drinks in their hands, turn their attention to him as well. From the living room, there's a burst of loud laughter from the girls.

"Not yet," Jared says. He doesn't point out that Tom only proposed to Genevieve a week ago, that he took his sweet time to finally ask her as well and it's not a damn race anyway.

Tom just hums.

"Lucky you," Stephen chimes in. "Most girls wouldn't be that patient. Hell, Katie started dropping hints and getting impatient after just a few months."

Jared gives him a tight smile. "Well, we'll get there when we're ready," he hedges. There's some good-natured grumbling, but the rest of the guys drop the topic. But Jared doesn't relax for the rest of the night.

He's still tense by the time he and Adrianne leave the party, catching a cab back to Adrianne's place.

Jared is itching for another drink by the time they get there, something strong to take the edge off, help him relax.

"Did you see Genevieve's ring? Gosh, it's so pretty," Adrianne says as she toes off her shoes. She sighs when she's done, her stockinged feet meeting the ground. "I could barely keep my eyes off it."

She gives a small laugh, looking up at Jared. She looks happy, but there's something else there, too. Expectation.

Jared feels sick. "Adrianne."

"Oh. Oh, no, Jared, I'm not trying to say I need a ring like that," Adrianne quickly says, giving him a reassuring smile. She gives his arm a squeeze and then steps past him, moving towards the couch. "It must have cost a fortune. I don't need _that_."

 _You can't string her along forever_ , Jensen's words echo in his head. He's right – either way, Jared has to make a choice. He has to ask her, or let her go, let her find what she wants with someone who is willing to give it to her if Jared isn't going to.

Jared feels his throat close up.

"Jared?" Adrianne asks, looking back at him. The smile slips off her lips, brows furrowing. "Honey, are you okay? You look spooked."

"I can't marry you," Jared says, the words falling from his lips before he's really made up his mind. And as he says them, he knows it's the right thing to do. Letting Adrianne go, instead of keeping up this farce.

For her and for himself.

"What are you talking about?" Adrianne asks, her voice quiet. Unsure.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," Jared says, staying rooted where he is, not daring to get closer to her now. "But I can't marry you. It's just not right."

"It's not… Jared, we've talked about this before. I don't understand why you'd say that," Adrianne says, hurt coloring her voice now. "Why would you change your mind?"

She takes a step towards him, but then she stops, and Jared feels like the couple of feet between them are miles.

"I guess… I guess I changed," he admits.

Adrianne looks at him, silently, confusion written all over her face, before her expression clears a little. "Is there someone else?" she asks, not quite angry, but her voice is harder, harsher.

There is – of course there is. But Jared can't tell her that. And it's not really Jensen that changed his mind, he was merely the final catalyst he needed. But he can't tell Adrianne that, can't tell her he was never in love with her to begin with.

"No," he lies. "No, there's nobody else. It's just me."

Adrianna gives a sharp nod, and Jared watches her eyes become shiny with tears before she turns her head away. "I can't believe –," she murmurs. "Oh god."

"I never wanted to hurt you," Jared says quietly.

Adrianne sniffles, nodding. "Well, you did," she says.

"I'm sorry, Adrianne."

Adrianne nods again and then laughs, no humor in the sound. "I think you should go, Jared," she says. "I want to be alone."

Jared hasn't taken his shoes off yet, nor his coat, and there's nothing for him to gather, nothing for him to do but turn around and leave. He hates that he did that, hurt her. And he hates that he's feeling better now that he has than has in a long time.

Jared makes it three days before he gives in and decides to go see Jensen. He doesn't want to. Breaking up with Adrianne doesn't mean he's ready to run to Jensen. But he can't stop thinking about him, and it needs to stop.

He decides to get off the subway a few stops before Jensen's and walk the rest of the way, to clear his head and gather his thoughts. To figure out what he wants to say, to do, but he doesn't get any closer to picking the right words with each step he takes.

And then it starts raining halfway to Jensen's building. It's a light rain for only a few moments before the skies open up and it starts pouring. Jared curses, ducking his head and walking a bit faster. It's useless, though – by the time he makes it to Jensen's, he is soaked down to the bone.

The doorman frowns at him when Jared steps into the building, dripping and leaving puddles in his wake.

"Is Mr. Ackles home?" Jared asks.

He almost expects to be tossed out onto the street again, even though the guy knows him, but he just sniffs and he calls Jensen, telling him he has a visitor.

Jensen is waiting for him, door open, by the time Jared makes it up to his floor and his eyes widen a little when Jared steps out of the elevator.

"What the hell happened to you?" he asks.

"It's raining," Jared says, as if Jensen doesn't probably know that anyway.

"I wouldn't have guessed," Jensen says, and Jared doesn't miss the way Jensen's eyes quickly roam over his body.

"Is this a bad time?" he asks, unsure.

Jensen shakes his head. "Come on. Let's get you dry and warm," he says, ushering Jared inside and closing the door behind him. "Get out of those clothes. I'll get you a towel."

He turns to leave, but Jared grabs him and for once, he doesn't allow himself to think, to worry. He ducks his head down and presses his lips to Jensen's. For a moment, Jensen doesn't react, standing there frozen, and then he makes a soft noise and curves a warm, broad hand around Jared's cheek and kisses him back.

It's not Jared's first kiss, not even _their_ first kiss, but it feels like it. New and different and right in ways no other kiss ever did and it shakes Jared to the core. It's the first kiss he's ever _really_ meant.

When they part, Jared is shaking. Emotions and the cold leaving him trembling, his mind spinning, and he feels a hot tear slide from his suddenly burning eyes.

"Shhh. Sweetheart," Jensen murmurs and rubs a thumb over Jared's cheek, smearing the wetness around. "It's okay. It's okay now. Let's get you warmed up before you make yourself sick."

Jared nods, then shakes his head. "Can you… " he starts. His heart is suddenly pounding, and he feels too many emotions to make any sense of them except for one. Want. He wants Jensen.

"Can I what?" Jensen asks. "Whatever you want, Jared. Just ask."

"Take me to bed," Jared dares to say, his stomach swooping. It's not what he came here for, not at all, but now that he's here, he knows it's what he wants. It's not right, but it's right for him, and Jared gives up on fighting it.

Jensen sucks in a breath, meeting his eyes and holding his gaze for a moment. Then he nods.

Jensen skims his mouth over Jared's cheek, his hand smoothing down Jared's side. His touch feels hot against Jared's cool, still damp skin, and Jared can feel where his cock is pressed against Jared's hip. Thick and long and hard.

Jared is naked in bed with a guy, and he feels like his chest might burst open with happiness. It's scary, too, terrifying even, but he wants this so much it's almost overwhelming.

"Jared," Jensen murmurs. "We can do whatever you want."

"Anything," Jared replies, and Jensen looks down at him with a small grin.

"Do you even really know what you're asking for?" he asks, not unkindly. He brushes Jared's hair back, kisses him softly.

"I've heard things," Jared says, face flushing hotly.

Jensen nods. "We don't have to," he says. "Whatever you want, whatever you feel comfortable with."

Jared bites down onto his lower lip, looking at Jensen's face, so open and _fond_. The things he's heard about guys having sex together were always crude, always meant to make it sound gross and wrong, and yet Jared always felt a flutter of excitement about it. He's not sure, not by any means, but he wants to give it a try. Needs to know what it's like to be with a man, really be with him.

"I want it," he says. "Please?"

Jensen cups his jaw and draws him into a kiss. It's slow, goes on for what feels like forever, lips brushing together, before Jensen draws back. He shifts them, guiding Jared onto his back with patient hands, and Jared moans when Jensen settles down on top of him. Their hard cocks slide together, and the pleasure from just that is so sharp Jared isn't sure he's going to last.

He lets his legs fall open without a thought, feels Jensen slide between them. His weight presses Jared down into the mattress. Jensen is strong, stronger than Jared probably, and Jared never thought that would be something that excites him, but it does. He settles his hands on Jensen's hips, not sure whether to attempt to pull him even closer or explore all the glorious, naked skin. He's allowed to touch now, to feel, he reminds himself.

Jensen keeps kissing him, rocking down against Jared and grinding their hips, their cocks, together.

It feels amazing, better than anything he's ever done with Adrianne or any other girl. Jared grabs Jensen's shoulders as Jensen's movements get faster, more urgent, and Jared arches up against him helpless. Jensen's mouth muffles the moans and gasps that are spilling from him, small broken sounds that sound as wanton as Jared feels.

He's never felt so out of control – with all his girlfriends, he was always the one who took charge; he was always the _man_. And he likes this, likes surrendering to Jensen like this and having him on top of him, being in control. It's thrilling, freeing, and with each thrust of Jensen against him, he feels himself get closer to orgasming.

"Jensen," he gasps finally, wrenching his mouth from Jensen's when it gets to be too much. "Stop. I'm going to come if we don't stop."

Jensen mouths at his jaw, small nips and sucks. "Do it," he murmurs. "I want you to, sweetheart."

It's the sweetheart that does Jared in. He moans and ruts up against Jensen, spilling between them moments later. It's so intense, it leaves Jared breathless for a while, spots dancing behind his eyes.

Jensen guides his face back to his, kisses him through it, and strokes his free hand down Jared's arm, his hip. Jared all but melts into the pillows, and they don't talk until Jared has calmed down, the buzz of pleasure receding to a low hum. Jensen softens his kisses slowly, then pulls back.

"Good?" he asks.

"Yeah," Jared says, yet he doesn't feel satisfied yet. "But I wanted – I wanted…" 

He trails off, not sure what to say. Not sure if the things he's heard are even true, and how to ask for them if they are.

Jensen smiles. "Not done with you yet," he says and rolls his hips against Jared's, his cock still hard. He pulls back, lifting himself off Jared, and pats his hip. "Turn around."

Jared's heart flips, and he does as he asks, feeling awkward as he tries to turn onto his stomach without kneeing Jensen anywhere. He settles down, legs splayed around Jensen's thighs.

"Comfortable?" Jensen asks.

Jared nods, his cheek scratching against the pillow.

"Yeah. _Please_ ," he murmurs.

Jensen hums and leans over him, kissing Jared's nape and then along his shoulders. He runs his hands down Jared's back, his sides, and as he mouths a path down Jared's spine, settles them onto Jared's ass. Jared lets out a gasp, wet and needy, his heart beating faster in his chest.

Jensen gives his ass cheeks a squeeze and Jared pushes back into his hands. "Will you…"

Jensen shifts, settles his weight on top of Jared and kisses the shell of his ear. "Fuck you?" he asks, and Jared nods as his cheeks grow hot. "Yeah. I will, sweetheart. But I need you to be patient for a bit longer – gotta get you ready with my fingers first."

Jared squeezes his eyes shut for a second, the thought alone enough to make his dick grow completely hard again. This is really happening. He never knew if it was a thing guys actually did, but he still wanted to try it anyway since the first time he heard about it, way too many years ago.

Jensen kisses his cheek. "Relax, okay?" he murmurs. "Tell me if I do anything you don't like."

Jared nods. With his eyes open again, he watches Jensen pull a small plastic jar from the nightstand.

He tries to relax, as Jensen told him, focuses on Jensen's mouth when it returns to his skin, dropping kisses down his back. The sensation of slippery fingers sliding between his cheeks makes him jump. Jensen's touch is careful, fingers rubbing over Jared's hole, pressing and catching on it, and Jared feels time stretch before Jensen finally starts pressing in.

Jared is pretty sure it's just one finger, but it feels big, weird, not really good but not bad either. Different. Jensen slides in and out, pushing in a little further each time, and then he rubs over a spot inside of Jared that has pleasure shooting up his spine. He whimpers, and Jensen shushes him quietly.

"That feel good, baby?" he asks. "You doing okay?"

"Yeah."

"Think you can take another finger?"

Jared widens the splay of his legs before even uttering a word, then says, "Yes."

Jensen works another finger into him. He takes his time, but it burns a little anyway. Jared bites down onto his lip and doesn't ask Jensen to stop, to go slower – he knows Jensen won't do anything to hurt him, and he wants this.

He feels Jensen move lower, and he cranes his head back just as Jensen kisses one of his ass cheeks. He wants to protest, embarrassment flooding him because Jensen is so close to his ass, can probably see everything. But Jensen sends him a small smile.

"Trust me?" he asks.

"Yeah," Jared murmurs.

Jensen uses his free hand to pull Jared's cheeks further apart. Jared feels cold air brush against his skin there and his mouth falls open, his face flushing, when Jensen licks between his cheeks.

"Jensen!" he protests, but any further complaints turn into a loud moan when Jensen licks around his hole. It's dirty, should be so weird, so wrong, but it feels beyond anything Jared has ever imagined. And he can't bring himself to tell Jensen to stop, because it's too good. Jensen's tongue keeps sliding over him, then pushing in, and each touch over his hole sends bursts of pleasure through him. He buries his face in his arms, lets the pillow muffle the sounds he's making, as Jensen licks and kisses, fucking him with his fingers and then his tongue too. It's wet and hot, and Jared thinks he's dying, that Jensen is killing him.

The third finger has him tensing up, the stretch feeling like a lot, but Jensen soothes him through it with soft words and soft licks and kisses, and soon pleasure again far outweighs any other sensation.

Jared is on the edge of a second orgasm when Jensen draws back. He works his fingers out of Jared, and Jared's breath catches, knowing what's coming.

Jensen guides him up into his hands and knees with soft instructions.

"Ready for me?" he asks, and Jared feels like too much of a sweaty, quivering, needy mess to do more than nod.

Jensen pushes in slowly. Jared knows it's slowly. But it's still almost too much, feels like he's being impaled by something much bigger than Jensen's cock, stretched wide, and it hurts more than he anticipated. But Jensen's hands on his skin, warm and sure and gentle, and the soft words he murmurs – "It's okay. It'll get better, I'll make you feel so good, sweetheart. Just relax for me, you're doing so well. You're so good, so wonderful." – help keep him focused.

Jared lets out a shaky exhale when Jensen is finally all the way inside of him, hips pressed against Jared's ass. Hard and unrelenting, it feels like he fills every last part of Jared, from head to toe, like there's nothing else but the feeling of him buried deep inside Jared.

"You feel okay?" Jensen asks, voice pressed. It probably feels great for him, and yet he's taking it so slow, being so careful with Jared. _For_ Jared.

"Big," Jared manages, and Jensen squeezes his hips.

"Breathe. Give it a few moments," he says. Jared nods and does as he's told.

When Jensen starts moving, after letting Jared adjust to his size for a few moments, most of the pain has ebbed away. It still burns a little, but it doesn't feel bad. It feels… monumental. Jensen is inside of him, is fucking him, and the thought alone is enough to make Jared feel like he's coming apart at the seams, make him tremble.

With each thrust, it feels better, easier. Pleasure builds, slowly at first, and then faster, until it's crashing over Jared in waves and he's forgotten all about the initial weirdness of it. Until every thrust has Jared making small, wanton noises, mingling with Jensen's moans, his body pushing back into Jensen shamelessly, needily. Until it becomes everything he wants, he needs, and when Jensen wraps a hand around his cock, gives him a few, hard tugs, he comes with a cry.

Jensen cleans him up with a wet cloth, and it should be embarrassing, his ass and the back of his thighs sticky with Jensen's come. He can feel it trickle out of him before Jensen wipes it away. But Jensen is so careful, so sweet, and Jared had no idea how good it could feel to give himself to someone like that, be taken care of like that.

He hums, pleased, when Jensen slides back into bed with him and pulls him close.

"How was that?" he asks, and Jared knows he's not looking to have his ego boosted. He comes from a place of genuine concern, care.

Jared smiles sleepily at him and kisses him, mouth brushing Jensen's. "Can we do that again? All the time?"

"All the time?" Jensen echoes, tightening his arms around Jared for a moment.

"Yeah," Jared says, quietly. A little unsure.

"As often as you want to," Jensen says. He cards his fingers through Jared's hair and shifts them around until they're looking at each other, both their cheeks resting on the pillows. "What about Adrianne?"

"We're over," Jared says and gives Jensen a smile that feels a little sad.

Jensen's eyes go a wide. Pretty and green, framed by long, dark lashes that Jared never allowed himself to really pay attention to. Jensen is beautiful. Breathtakingly so. And Jared feels so relieved that he is allowing himself to really look now – he still feels shame, fear, but it's more muted now, overpowered by how good this feels, how right it feels to be with Jensen.

Jensen kisses him, and then rests his forehead against Jared's. "We'll figure it out," he murmurs, like he knows what Jared is thinking.

"Yeah?"

"We're not the first two men doing this, Jared. There are a lot more guys just like us than you think," Jensen says. "I'm not saying it's easy. It's fucking difficult. But it's not impossible."

"I wanna try. With you. I'm not completely okay with this yet. It's still… a lot to wrap my head around," Jared admits quietly and shifts a little closer, tangling his legs between Jensen's. "But I want this."

Jensen smiles. "It'll be worth it," he says.

Jared nods and laughs softly, and for the first time he feels a little hopeful.

It's not easy. Having to hide, having to lie.

Jensen still takes Danneel to dinners and parties, instead of Jared. On those nights, Jared stays home and feels miserable. Almost feels like Jensen is cheating on him, even though he knows that's not true. He knows it can't be him by Jensen's side, not that way, but he wants it to be.

He doesn't like having to act like Jensen's buddy when they're in public either, but it's better than nothing. At least Jensen is with him then. And with each day, Jared feels a little less shame, less like it's wrong, and starts hating the world they live in a little more instead. Loving Jensen, being with him, feels too right, makes him too happy, to be wrong.

"Fuck the rest of the world," Jensen whispers into Jared's ear one night, when Jared feels like it's too much. It becomes their mantra. As long as they have each other, the rest of the world seems to matter less.

And Jensen is right. It's worth it.

It's worth it every time Jared slides into bed with Jensen at the end of a day. Every time he wakes up in Jensen's arms. Every time they have dates, in their own homes where they can be together without having to worry about anyone seeing them, drawing the right conclusions. It's worth it the first time Jensen tells him he loves him, whispers the words into Jared's skin as they lie together in bed, naked bodies tangled and still sweaty. It's worth it when Jensen convinces him to move into the apartment under his – too expensive for Jared, but Jensen insists on paying half of the rent – so they can be together every day without anyone noticing.

It's worth it when, one morning over breakfast, Jensen knocks his foot against Jared and asks, "Are you happy?"

And Jared says, without hesitation, "Yes."


End file.
